


Remember, Remember

by KateKintail



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Bonfires, Gen, Guy Fawkes Night, His Dark Materials AU, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Re-imagining a scene from 3x01.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember, Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/ kink meme, round XXXV.
> 
> Prompt: Johns deamon is a hedge hog  
> bonus: Sherlocks is a Badger

At first, John wasn’t sure where he was. He could feel Minnie nosing him awake with desperate little snorts. But when he opened his eyes, all familiarity drained away at once. “What…” And then he remembered the man coming up to him outside the flat. He remembered the sharp pain in his neck where he’d been injected. He saw bits of rubbish—broken headboards and cracked crates—and mostly he saw wood. Wood that was, he suddenly realized, glowing a bright orange. He smelled fire and gasoline. Minnie, his small hedgehog daemon, looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern. 

She could escape. She could burrow through the pile and make it to safety. But she wouldn’t. Instead, she nuzzled against his chest. “Remember, Sherlock and Berger will save us,” she told him. He nodded, needing to trust in that. He knew it, really. He felt it deep down. But the possibility that he’d be found seemed unlikely. 

John yelled. Minnie screamed. But the crowd around the bonfire was too thick, too loud and drowned them out entirely with cheers, squawks, roars, and barks. John had only heard Minnie scream like this a few times before, and this time the sound like a car alarm honk put him on edge. He shifted slightly, pressing against her, and when he stopped his fruitless yelling, she quieted as well. 

Panic turned to a sad acceptance. John could feel the heat as the flames of fire made their way inward. It was around him and above him all at once, eating at the wood and growing stronger, bigger. He couldn’t know where it would break through first. So he moved his body as much as he could to curl around his daemon as she rolled herself into a ball, making themselves as small as possible to buy themselves a few extra seconds before the flames got to them, seconds in which they might be rescued. But, more realistically, seconds in which they could be together before they burned alive amidst the celebration. 

There was a crash as some wood gave way. John winced and shut his eyes tight. He felt Minnie against him as a comforting presence and hoped that when the end came, it would be quick. 

Another crash and yelling split the air. Not a cheer. Nothing like a cheer. It was his name. A “move!” and then “John!” There it was, over and over again. “John!” and he knew the voice. He remembered it all too well. He had gone a year without hearing it and now it was back and it was here. And he might have thought he was imagining things but the pile began to shift steadily around him. Substantial pieces of wood that were aflame mercifully retreated. 

He saw Berger’s face first, the fierce badger with startling black eyes. Her sharps claws scratched at the dirt and wood, burrowing a path through. 

“They’re here!” Minnie exclaimed, uncurling from her perfect little ball and looking up with hope anew. “John!” She made anxious clicking sounds so their rescuers would know where to find them.

John nodded. “Help!” he cried. “Sherlock!” He coughed, the smoke warm, thick, intense around him.

And then the man was there, pulling away whole flaming pieces of the bonfire at once. The fire leapt at his hands and face, but he didn’t seem to notice. And when he was close enough, he reached in. Reached with his long arms and strong hands. He grabbed John beneath the arms and pulled. Pulled with all his might. John tried to help, tried to move, but his body was useless in the effort. Sherlock dragged him out and kept dragging until they’d cleared it entirely. John’s face skidded in the dirt. Blood trickled down the side of his face from his hairline, wet and itching.

Sherlock rolled John over so he could get air. John managed to lift his head just enough to see Berger carefully setting Minnie down on the ground next to him. Her teeth were sharp, but she’d managed to carry the little hedgehog without causing any injury. Minnie snuggled against him, curling up in a ball to save face as she trembled from the experience.

Whatever drug they’d pumped John with hadn’t completely worn off yet, but he gazed up at Sherlock. Then man looked concerned, as did the badger sitting upright between the man’s legs, head cocked slightly to the side. But John could breathe the cool night air now. He was a doctor. He knew he’d be all right. He just needed rest. And he passed out again.


End file.
